


we keep this love in a photograph

by daggertattoos



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: AU, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Soooo much fluff, basically all fluff, idk what else to tag, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 16:59:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8761465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daggertattoos/pseuds/daggertattoos
Summary: Isak: Seriously, dude, how many of these do you have?Eskild's response to that was to send a bunch of other pictures, his phone beeping non stop and when he looks at it, it's mostly candids of the two of them from over the weekend, through the past couple of days. or the one where isak and even relive their weekend together through photographs





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! So I'm back with another fic, inspired by the photo of Isak and Even that Eskild sent and I'm sorry it's so short, I just really wanted to write this. Oh and I started writing this before _that_ clip came out so for the purpose of this fic, none of that has happened. Sooooo yeah, I hope you guys like it!
> 
> For Abi and Jeanne because you're both sweethearts! ♡
> 
>  
> 
> Title from Photograph by Ed Sheeran

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Isak asks innocently, even though he knows exactly what Even is talking about, his phone aimed at Even, thumb clicking the camera button again and again.

Even tries to sound serious when he says, “Stop taking pictures of me,” but the soft whine in his voice and the playful smile on his lips betray him, only making Isak want to take more pictures, so he does, getting at least another ten photos in the span of three seconds. Technology is fucking _genius_.

“If I'm gonna be a director, I have to be _behind_ the camera,” he grumbles, reaching out for the phone.

“Last one,” Isak tells him as he ducks away from Even's hand trying to grab his phone. “I swear.”

Even gives him a small snort, because he knows it's not the last one, but he doesn't really mind. In fact, if he's being honest, he kind of likes it. He likes the way Isak looks at him like he's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life. And he likes Isak. A lot. So he gives up on trying to snatch the phone away and instead he hides his face behind his hands, peeking at Isak through the spaces between his fingers, only a hint of his bright blue eyes and the curl of his mouth being shown. But it's more than enough for Isak, an excited gasp escaping his throat and he snaps away, grinning brightly as he says, “Now _that's_ a classic.”

Even laughs at that, a light and airy sound that Isak can't seem to get enough of. It's like a drug, really, and it's far more intoxicating than any kind of poison. All he wants is to hear it again and again and knowing that he's the reason for it, now that's the best part, the ultimate high, complete euphoria.

In the time between Isak getting distracted by Even's laughter and completely zoning out, Even somehow managed to pry the phone away from Isak's fingers, letting it fall to the bed with a soft thud.

“Wha- Hey!”

Even gives him a cheeky grin, pressing a soft kiss to his pouted lips. “Enough paparazzi,” he mumbles, pecking him again before he pushes himself up. “I need to pee.”

Isak sighs a little too dramatically, letting his shoulders slump forward as if Even was going off to war and not just to the bathroom across the hall. “Be quick,” he calls after him, lazily reaching for his phone again when he hears it beep.

 **Eskild:** _Look at these two!_

Underneath the message, there's a picture of Isak and Even, sat close together with Even's arms around him and one of Isak's hands holding onto his arm, his other hand wandering somewhere a little... _lower._ Isak recognises it from earlier today, when they decided to be social and watch tv outside with Eskild for about five seconds before they started making out a little too heavily on the couch and got shooed back to Isak's room. His eyes go fuzzy as he idly reads the rest of the replies, something about him being gay now and that they were hot. He sighs, reluctantly typing out his own reply.

 **Isak:** _Please don't post it anywhere. We're not official yet or anything._

Isak feels a rush of relief when Eskild answers that he wouldn't, of course not, and he doesn't even know why. After all, he's already posted that picture of Even on his own Instagram. That, combined with all the gay rumours that have been going around, well... It's pretty transparent. Everybody already knows. But then again, it's different. A picture of Even playing a video game is nothing compared to a picture of the two of them cuddling, even if Even was wearing his shirt in the former. People could've written it off as him just being a friend. Just two dudes hanging out, playing Fifa, sharing clothes, the entire weekend. Totally platonic, right? But them, together, _in each other's arms_ , now that's a line he's not sure he can cross yet. He wants to, he's ready to, he knows he is, especially with his dad already in the know. He _could_ do it, but it isn't his line to cross alone. It's Even's too and he can't make that decision for the both of them, not when they haven't had the talk. Yes, _the_ talk. That talk. He doesn't know if they're officially a couple, doesn't know if he's allowed to call Even his boyfriend or if it's all just-

His thoughts are interrupted when he feels the buzz in his hand again, glancing down to see that Eskild had sent another photo. This time, it's Isak lying between Even's legs, back curled against him, head resting on his chest, both their expressions furrowed as their thumbs press into colourful buttons on the game controllers in their hands, eyes narrowed at the tv screen.

Isak remembers that. It was just after he took that photo of Even that he put up online, when they actually started playing and Isak realised he's a shitty player compared to Even. But then again, he's a shitty player compared to everyone, so. It was a refreshing sight to see, though, really. Even just sitting there, playing video games, becoming awfully competitive. In that moment, he was just a boy. Just Even. Sometimes Isak felt like Even lived in this constant whirlwind of drama, as though his life was a movie and everything he did would be incomplete without some sort of theatrical spin to it. But right then, in that picture, he was nothing more than just another teenage boy, a boy full of _real_ life. Isak liked that boy. He liked him a lot.

 **Eskild:** _Gamer boyfriends ;))_

Isak startled, the sudden buzz catching him off guard, but as soon as he reads the message, his eyes roll back, head shaking to himself.

 **Isak:** _Seriously, dude, how many of these do you have?_

Eskild's response to that was to send a bunch of other pictures, his phone beeping non stop and when he looks at it, it's mostly candids of the two of them from over the weekend, through the past couple of days. Isak clicks on the one right at the top, and he lets out a small scoff. It's a picture of them from the kitchen back on Saturday, Even singing that stupid song to him, fingertips dancing over his cheek, Isak completely dazed by him, eyes locked on nothing but _EvenEvenEven_. At the time, he didn't care how whipped he looked, because he thought that they were alone. Obviously not. Fucking Eskild and Noora. So much for going to yoga.

Isak's about to swipe to the next photo when Even comes back, flopping onto the bed and making Isak bounce with him, before he crawls up and falls back onto the pillows, arms reaching out to pull Isak against his body. They don't really have to think about it anymore, the way they lie together. There's no awkward fumbling, or uncomfortable twisting and turning at all. It just happens. Isak's back curved against Even's chest, Even's arms looped around his middle, his head nestled into the crook of Even's shoulder. Their bodies just _know_ what to do, where to go. Muscle memory and all that. Somehow, they always find a way to fit.

“What's that?” Even asks, looking at the phone screen over Isak's shoulder.

Isak hums, tilting the phone a little so Even can see better, and he mutters, “Looks like I'm not the only one who's been taking pictures of us.”

“Oh no,” Even pretends to groan, but Isak can hear the soft chuckle in the back of his throat, can feel Even leaning in closer to see the picture clearer and _oh_. “Holy shit, is that us _sleeping?_ ”

It _is_ them sleeping. On which night, Isak isn't sure because Even's been sleeping over almost every night since Friday and every one of those nights is the same. Their bare bodies tangled up together in every way possible, Isak's head on Even's chest, Even's nose buried in Isak's hair, arms lazily stretched around each other, long legs and socked feet intertwined. Seeing the dark shadows in the room, it's hard to say whether it was really late at night or really early in the morning, but either way, it's pretty fucking creepy and Isak makes a point to tell Eskild exactly that, typing out a quick message.

 **Isak:** _Don't ever take pictures of us sleeping again, it's fucking creepy_  
**Eskild:** _That one was Noora!!_  
**Noora:** _ESKILD_  
**Noora:** _It was him, Isak, it's all him_  
**Eskild:** _Ugh you guys are just too cute!! I can't help it! :(_

Isak hears Even laugh softly from behind him, his warm breath fanning over Isak's skin and he almost shudders, leaning back into him even more. Isak ignores the messages, going back to the picture and he sighs, eyes glazing over as he stares at it. They look so peaceful, so still, so... safe. That's it. That's the word he was looking for. _Safe_. They look safe in each other's arms, like they're holding each other in this protective little bubble of their own, like nothing could touch them and maybe nothing could. And Isak feels the exact same way now, lying here with Even. He's safe. So, so safe.

“It's not the bed,” Even blurts out suddenly, his eyes locked on the picture as well.

Isak twists his head around just barely, just enough to glance at Even for a second. “What?”

Even seems to consider his words for a moment, two maybe, then he says, “You know how I said I couldn't sleep in my bed because I've gotten so used to yours?”

Isak hums, nods.

“It's not the bed. It's you.” Even smiles, more to himself than anyone else really, just a tiny curl tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It's _you_ that I've gotten used to.”

Isak wiggles around, turning his body over so that he's facing Even now, his head tilting up to meet Even's eyes. His eyebrows arch in question, silently asking him to go on.

“See, it doesn't matter if it's your bed, or mine, or even out in the streets,” he starts, his hand coming up to gently brush Isak's hair out of his eyes, his thumb running over Isak's cheekbone. “If you're there, and I'm there, if we're both there _together_ , then I'm okay. You know? I'm... I'm- What's the word?”

“Safe?” Isak offers, voice small.

Even hums, thoughtful, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and he says, “I was actually thinking of ‘home’ but safe works too.”

That gets a smile out of Isak, a small grin slowly curving itself onto his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I think I like home better,” he mumbles, leaning up just a little more to press a small kiss to Even's lips.

“I think I do too,” Even whispers back. He lifts his arm and automatically, Isak shuffles back around so he's tucked nicely under Even's arm, snuggling into his side.

Isak swipes to the next photo and he bursts into laughter right away, making Even lean over to look closer and he lets out a strangled noise once he sees what it is.

“Were you crying?” Isak gasps, his face lit up like the fourth of fucking July, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh man, you were _so_ crying!”

“No, I wasn't!” Even tries to deny, but the red flush in his cheeks gives him away.

Isak zooms up to Even's face in the dim-lighted photo, his eyes clearly red and his cheeks obviously tear-stained. “Yes, you were!” Isak dissolves into a fit of giggles as Even groans loudly, burying his head into the pillow.

His voice is muffled when he says, “It's Romeo and Juliet, okay? You know I can't help it!”

See, the movie was showing on tv one night, so they got comfy on the couch, Even sat in one corner while Isak stretched over it with his head laid in Even's lap, his body all wrapped up in thick blankets. One of Even's hands was threaded through Isak's hair, gently massaging his scalp while the other was threaded through Isak's fingers, resting on Isak's chest, right over his heart. By the time the picture was taken, Isak had already fallen asleep because he isn't a fan of watching movies more than once, but Even stayed up through the whole thing, letting himself become a crying mess because, _well_ , it's Romeo and Juliet. Isak's never seen anyone so in love with a film before and Isak thinks it's the purest thing in the world.

“I know, Evy, I know,” Isak says to him sweetly, patting his head gently and Even comes around, lifting his head off the pillow to move it onto Isak's head, his cheek resting on Isak's soft hair.

Isak goes to the next picture and this time, it's Even who laughs, snatching the phone from Isak's hand to get a better look at it.

“Oh my god,” he manages to say in between his breathless chuckles. “Look at you! You look like a grumpy baby monkey!”

Isak feels his face burn, cheeks turning an impossible shade of red but he has nothing to say to that because it's true. He _does_ look like a grumpy baby monkey. It was Monday morning, he thinks, when he refused to get up for school so Even practically dragged his ass out of bed, hoisted him onto his back and carried him out of the room, forcing him to wake up. So there he was, half-asleep and hanging off of Even's back, his frowning face smushed into Even's t-shirt – well, technically, it's _his_ t-shirt – while his mouth is gaping open and-

“Wait, are you _drooling?_ ”

“Jesus Christ,” Isak mutters under his breath, his hands coming up to cover his face, blood spreading to the tips of his ears now.

Even coos at him, prying his fingers away from his blushing face and he says, “Aww, it's okay, Isak. You're still a cute baby monkey.”

Isak snorts at that, muttering an exaggeratedly sarcastic, “Well, _thanks_ ,” and he casts his gaze down, embarrassment getting the better of him.

He knows he's being ridiculous, knows that it's all just teasing but he can't bring himself to look up. Even seems to notice because Isak feels him moving in closer so their foreheads are pressed against each other's, the tips of their noses touching. Then, he feels Even's hand on his neck, the pulse in Even's wrist beating in time with the pulse in his neck. It's oddly calming and every beat just feels like _homehomehome_.

“Hey, you,” Even whispers, so softly that Isak just barely hears it, so quiet that he's not sure if it's even real.

“Hmm?”

“Look at me.”

Isak's eyes flicker up, for a second, before he drops his gaze again and Even sighs, his grip on Isak's neck tightening just a bit.

“ _Issy_ ,” he says, still soft, but more solid. More real. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, Isak meets his eyes, keeping their gazes locked right there and Even smiles at him. Not with his lips, but with his eyes. His pretty blue eyes that are so full of life, so full of love. Isak wonders what Even sees in his eyes.

“The man of my life,” Even says, the words sounding so pretty coming from his mouth, like they were his words to say and his alone. He smiles wider, both eyes and lips now. “My beautiful. My home.”

All of a sudden, the word ‘boyfriend’ had no meaning. It was nothing compared to _this_. Nothing compared to the feeling that Isak gets when he hears the word ‘home’, a warm fuzzy feeling that starts from the centre of his heart, spreading out through his body, all the way to the tips of his fingers. _It's love,_ he thinks _, the feeling is love._

“My home,” he echoes, his voice softer than Even's, like he's afraid he might ruin it if he said too loud.

Even kisses him right then, gentle at first, his lips barely touching Isak's, slowly, softly, then he kisses him all at once, so hard that Isak feels it in his toes. It's amazing, really, how he never gets tired of kissing Even, like every time still feels like the first, like they can't get enough of it, can't get enough of each other.

And now Isak _knows_ that it's love because he feels it in the way that Even kisses the life out of him. He knows that it's love because he sees it right there, in all those pictures. He knows that it's love because he hears it the words that Even speaks. It's love, _pure fucking love_ , bursting out in the form of hungry kisses and grainy photographs and sweet whispers. And Isak couldn't ask for anything better.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment to let me know what you think of it and if you enjoyed it, help share it around for me!


End file.
